Wunerful

Wunerful, wunerful, as the old German used to say.  I had nothing scheduled, so thought I'd hang out at the pool, but I got a morning phone call.  Did I want to meet at the lake about 1:30?  Yes, indeedy, I surely did.
Changed into my bathing togs, assembled towel, sandals, beach bag, and other stuff, cut up some oranges, and zoomed down Route 539 to Harry Wright Lake, in Whiting, New Jersey.
Oh, it was delightful.  Had a fine time with the darling boys and their decrepit old granny (ha!) on another heavenly summer day.  We spent most of the time in the lake where Joel practiced his handstands, and just a bit on the beach, where T. made a sandcastle.  Lots of people there, but not too many, and there are big trees for shade, as well as bathrooms and even a snack bar.  It's mostly rustic, though, being smack dab in the middle of the pine barrens (oops--I forgot you're supposed to called them "the pinelands" now, as they're anything but barren).
We stayed until after 4:00, then parted.  I repeat: Wunerful day with those wunerful boys and their wunerful Nana at that wunerful lake. Why, it was--vunderbar!